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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083018">like her</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Incest, Strap-Ons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 05:02:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with just her voice.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Flayn/Seteth (Fire Emblem)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>like her</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>uh </p><p>i wrote this in one sitting at like 1 am</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It started with just her voice. Flayn sounded so much like her mother, it was surreal. Seteth would hear it in everyday things, innocent things, that his mind twisted into something else. He knew she’d say the things he wanted, if he asked. For so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> many years, he held off, but soon enough, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to hear </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> voice again. Seteth finally broke, and asked Flayn to say some things to him, to make her voice just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> deeper. Things that Flayn, who wasn’t well-versed in the manners of the flesh, didn’t completely understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cethleann, could you do me a favor? I hate to ask any boon of you, but if you could just...say a few things for me. I know it’s strange, but...it would make me quite happy if you did.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course I will! If it’ll make you happy. Do I say it like this...?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you want it harder?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Does it feel good?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Say my name, Cichol.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first, that was enough. Even though he felt guilty, moaning his wife’s name and spilling his seed into his fist at the thought of his daughter’s voice, it turned him on, it got him hard. But before long, it was more than that. He missed his wife’s touch, her loving caress. That would be harder to get Flayn to simulate, he thought—harder for her to learn and harder for him to cope with the aftermath. It took him even longer to come to terms with that, but eventually, he did. He’d already soiled her, whether she knew it or not, so why not take it further?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And she agreed to do it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Flayn felt like a carbon copy of her mother, the way she gripped his hips from behind and thrust forward. He’d hardly had to teach her how he liked it, she learned so quickly. She figured out where his sweet spot was, and pounded him relentlessly. At first, she called him Father during it, but once, she ventured to call him Seteth, and he came in her palm right away. Ever since, she said his name, dripping with honey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, he found himself getting too into it, slipping away from his fantasy. When he felt those tiny hands, cupping his ass or holding his hips or stroking his cock, he remembered that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> his wife. It was his daughter. And, startlingly, that didn’t turn him off. Her voice was similar to his wife’s, but sometimes he heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cethleann</span>
  </em>
  <span> underneath, so genuinely loving of her father that she did something so disgusting, so unnatural.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, he wanted to ask her to call him Father again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She fucked him so lovingly, her hands slicked up from the oil they’d used but still gripping him desperately. She was still learning to stroke him properly, but he could cum without it. Just feeling her thrusting into him, hearing her little pants from her exertions, was enough. And, of course, it all circled back to the beginning: her voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Finish for me, Cichol. Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That pleading in her tone, the hint of dominance that not even his wife could have pulled off—it was too much for him. The lines were getting blurrier, he was less and less sure of what was okay and what wasn’t, but he knew that it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> to cum in his daughter’s hand, to feel her narrow hips slamming against his as she followed her daddy’s orders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they were done, she’d always ask the same thing, in a voice so saccharine that Seteth nearly regretted everything: “Father? Did I sound like her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every night, he feared what would become of him if his answer was ever “no”.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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